Without the Burdens of Time
by slink74
Summary: After learning some startling facts from the goddess of love, Romano falls off of a cliff. When he wakes up, something changes. Spamano, with some GerIta. Human names used. Greek mythology involved. Aah, sucky summary is sucky.
1. Meeting A Goddess

**Okay, hi! This is a new story, and I may or may not continue it. It really depends on how people respond. I just went back to reading Percy Jackson and imagined this up. I really wanted to describe Aphrodite too, so it's a two bird one stone situation. It's not very edited, and don't mind my language fails. I'm an American, what do you expect?**

ROMANO POV

Sometimes life throws something at you. Sometimes it's a treat, and sometimes it's a brick aimed at your face. As a man who hasn't had one of these metaphorical treats thrown at me for a while, I was kind of used to it. People aren't nice, and I've accepted this fact.

But being pushed off of a cliff by the supposed goddess of love is probably one of the weirdest and most painful bricks I've gotten in quite some time. Especially since she claimed she was helping me realize potential.

Okay, perhaps I should go back a bit.

Feliciano had invited the potato bastard over to our house, so I had no choice but to visit Spain. I don't want to be near the two when they act all cuddly. If there is one thing that I can go my entire life without seeing, it's that. So to Spain's house I go.

The day was remarkably warm, and feeling the sun on my skin was refreshing. The smell of tomatoes wafted from his house, and it almost made me feel nostalgic. I suppose I've been cooped up too long after all.

I knocked on the door quickly, feeling my face warm at the prospects of seeing Spain. Not that I'm eager. And I didn't miss him. So anyone who's thinking that, just shut up and let me continue my story. Bastards.

He opened the door almost immediately, and looked at me for a brief second with surprise. The sunny expression on his face grew as he exclaimed, "Romano! Tanto tiempo sin verte!"

"Shut up and let me in." I said briskly. Hopefully that'll keep him from giving me a greeting hug.

And, it didn't. He wrapped his arms around me, cooing about how much he missed me in the two weeks since I was here last. Stupid codependent Spain and his smell of tomatoes in the summertime. Dammit, stop thinking like that!

"L-Let go, bastard!" I shouted, struggling to push him away.

Reluctantly, he did. He wouldn't stop smiling stupidly, though, and that was probably worse. "I missed you, Lovi."

I frown, but I'm blushing from his sincerity. "Yeah, well I've been busy."

_Busy doing what? Playing video games and waiting for my plants to grow? He knows you've been doing absolutely nothing._

He nodded knowingly, but was still smiling. Someday I plan on smacking that stupid grin off of his face. "Right. Busy work as always for my Lovi."

"Shut up, bastard!" I said, storming into his house and plopping myself on his couch. It's one of the most comfortable couches I've known, so it's always my first stop when I visit his house.

Spain laughed and jumped onto the couch beside me. He literally hopped onto the couch, making it thud and move a few inches back. With a casual grin, he put his arm around me. As if I wasn't going to punch him.  
So I punched him, gently, in the side. He laughed again and said, "Ow."

"Get off of me, you bastard!"

He removed his arm, not losing his stupid-ass grin. "You're—"

Before he could finish this statement, probably with something along the lines of 'cute', someone knocked on his door. Frantically.

The stupid smile fell away and he got up to answer the door. I leaned over to see who it was. Of course, it was the wine freak. But he looked pale and frightened, so I was curiously pleased.

"What's wrong, mi amigo?" Spain was sounding panicked too.

"Someone was in my house! And-and-and—" Now the wine freak was crying. I don't think he knows I'm here, so I remain quiet. It wouldn't be helpful to laugh at him for being a baby.

Spain was using his gentle and calming voice, "Okay, I'll help you. Let's go to your house and see what happened."

"But-but-but I don't want to go and see it!" He's sobbing like a child who scraped his knee. Wimp.

He looked over at me, apologizing for leaving so soon through a pitiful expression. I shrug, acting like I don't care, and he turned back to France.

"Antonio, please don't make me go. I don't want to!" He cried onto his shirt.

Okay, I wasn't envious when I watched the Spain hold the stupid frog and comfort him. It's just not appropriate to be so physical. Yeah, it's inappropriate.

He stroked France's hair and said sweetly, "It's okay, it's okay. It'll be better to see it with a friend there. I'll help you."

The wine freak sniffled and looked at him in relief. "O-okay. Okay then."

I crossed my arms and scowled as they walked out of the room. Stupid Spain and his whiny friends. Abandoning me to help the crying asshole.

Dammit, I need some air.

_He just left. It doesn't matter that I'm here, his friends must always come first! His stupid idiot friends! The fucking bastard!_

I stormed out the back door, into his tomato field. It wasn't enough to stomp out there, I needed get out my frustration more. So I kept stomping down the rows of tomatoes, out the gate, and finally found myself on the cliff overlooking his house.

It's funny. I've been to his house millions of times and never have I bothered to come up here. The view is nice. Nice enough to make me relax a little.

I sat on the grass and tried to stare down his house. My glaring weakens slowly as I start to enjoy the warm day and nice hideout. I wonder if Spain's been up here, either.

My eyes start to feel heavy. I prop myself back on my elbows and close my eyes. The wind is rustling in the trees, and the birds are softly chirping. It's a beautiful day, a beautiful and quiet day.

"Romano, Romano, Romano!" I jumped up at the sound of some furious woman. The voice, though angry, was like beautiful music.

I turned to see a lovely woman, too lovely to describe. Oh fuck it, I'll try. Her hair was light blond that was in perfect ringlets. Her outfit was impressively made for her, gathering at the most voluptuous parts of her body. She looked pissed.

"Who the hell are you?" I asked, standing up.

She planted her hands on her hips. "Right now I'm your interventionist."

I scowl at her. "Seriously, who are you?"

"I'm Aphrodite, your mother."

…the fuck? Neither of that could be true. Well, she could be the goddess of beauty, but not my mother.

"I'm not kidding. Tell me who you are or I'm leaving."

"Nor am I. Why do you think that your full name has 'love' and 'romance' implied?"

Romano. Lovino. Son of a bitch.

She stepped forward, her soft blue eyes turning cold. "I've been trying and trying to win this bet, but you keep being obnoxious about it. Now Athena is winning because of that stupid potato and I'm still stuck with you being a miserable bastard."

Damn, I'm seeing a resemblance.

"I'm not a miserable bastard. And what the hell are you betting?"

Aphrodite glared at me. "Athena and I got into a bet that we could each raise a son that would become like us. For her, that means her son becoming an impressive war man and for me that would take you falling in love with your soulmate."

I blinked slowly. "Soulmate?"

"Yes, exactly. So we left you both when you were young, and kind of helped from the distance. But she got too close by sending him more help than necessary and so now I'm intervening."

Why are they betting on me? "Who's the other person you two are betting on?"

"Your twin, Feliciano."

"So… he isn't my twin?" I say slowly.

"He is. He's just the son of Athena, too."

I frown thoughtfully. Then it hit me. "She gave him the potato bastard, didn't she? Ugh, the bitch!"

She grinned at my fury. "Exactly. I tried to help you, too, but it didn't work." The goddess turned angry again. "Gods, I even gave you and him the shared love of tomatoes. And those are the best aphrodisiacs around!"

"Wait—"

"I even put you under his care for most of your childhood! How the hell can you be so oblivious? It's just—"

"My soulmate is Spain?" I screamed at her.

She doesn't seem to notice me. "It's impossible! How goddamn hard is it to fall in love with the man you've been set out to be with?"

"Because he's an ignorant ass!" I'm meant to be with Spain?

"But you two are such a perfect couple. I just don't know why you don't just stop being such a prude."

I tense up and shout "I'm not a—"

"But I'm going to change this. I'm sick of you being so guarded. So I will make you give up all your games."

"What's that supposed to—"

Before I could finish, I saw that I've reached the edge of the cliff. I looked at my mother. Who's not really acting like a mother.

She reached out and pushed my chest.

And I plummeted to the ground.

* * *

Translations:

_Tanto tiempo sin verte!_ - Long time no see!

_Mi amigo_ - My friend


	2. Confusion

**Wow, I really wasn't expecting such a positive reception! Or a reception at all, really. Everyone was so nice about it, so I had to immediately start working on chapter two. So here you go, and thanks for being so awesome!**

SPAIN POV

The house didn't seem broken into. The door was the same, not chipped from crowbar force or broken down entirely. How is it so simple and trendy at the same time? I've never seen anything unimpressive about his house. Of course, he spends most his money on making everything stylish. He's quite fortunate, and that makes me happy. I like when my friends have luck on their side.

I walk towards the door, but Francis stopped me.

"Antonio, please." He gripped my arm, his lip quivering. I don't like to see mi amigo cry. I put my arm around him, hoping he'd stop. Instead he shrugged me off.

I decided to try and verbalize my comforting. With an enthusiastic grin, I said, "It's all going to be fine. Maybe you just overreacted. It doesn't seem that bad."

The lip quiver became more prominent. "I don't want to."

"You can't stay out of your home forever." He was particularly sensitive with people around his stuff, so I could see him living the rest of his life oblivious to whatever happened. But I didn't want him thinking of that as an option.

He shook his head, biting his lip to restrain from crying. "Non, non, non."

"Try, for me. Please?" I took his face in my hands and plead with a relatively serious expression. It's a serious moment, so I had to stop smiling. It worked, though.

He looked away reluctantly and started walking to the house. I linked arms with him and took the lead. I opened the door for him and started looking for signs of an intruder. Francis let out a whimper and tightened his grip on me. I still didn't see anything wrong with the house.

"I think you overreacted." I conclude. There was nothing wrong.

He sniffled again. "But-but… someone took my wine."

I sighed and went into his wine cellar. There was a surprisingly low amount of wine in there, proving his story. But in the shadowy room, there was a mark of bright white. I walked over to the table, where a single sheet of paper was resting.

"Turn on the light, mi amigo." I say, lifting the paper from the table and trying to read it. "Someone left you a note."

He quickly turned on the light and snatched the paper from me. His expression changed in a slow unfurling way that was too amusing to not giggle at. The wide-eyed curiosity slowly melted. His eyebrows furrowed. The frown deepened. I watched the paper crumple slowly in his tightening fists. Francis' cheeks flushed with anger as his eyes darted farther along on the paper. Finally, he shoved the paper into his pocket and shouted, "Goddamn Prussia!" Then he pivoted on his heel and ran out of the room, stomping for impact.

Francis always was lured into pranks with Prussia, so I'm not surprised. Still, it was kind of cute how he got so emotional, and started stomping around like how Lovi always stormed out of-

I left Lovi all alone, didn't I? I got so swept up with Francis and his whirlpool of drama that I left him after such little time! Poor Lovi! He's going to be furious when I come back.

If he's still there.

He could have gotten pissed at me, thinking that I didn't want to even be near him. Lovi never understood why I always run to Francis' aid, or why I always immediately asked him for help. Bonds are kind of hard to explain, so I never tried. But he's going to feel abandoned. It always makes me unhappy to see him angry with me. Especially since everything I do seems to make him unhappy. It's not my fault I'm forgetful, and I really wish I could do something to make him realize that. Maybe the only thing I can do is always be there.

Yes! I resolve to always be there. Where? I don't know. But I'll be there. For Lovi!

Perhaps I should go see if he's still at my house, so I can be there for him. If he isn't… I just hope he is.

With that worrisome thought, I sprint out of France's house and run all the way home. By the time I reach the front gate, I'm winded. I can barely hear the distant groan over my gasping breaths.

Wait—who's groaning? Is someone in pain?

I hesitantly walk through the gate, and see a lump of a person curled up on the grass. They didn't groan again.

Finally gathered my breath, I dart over to the person's side and rolled them over. In utter horror, I realized that the bloodied, unconscious person was my Romano.

He looked beautiful, even with the bloody gash on his forehead. His curl was crinkled, and the rest of his hair was matted with blood. An innocent look he only got when sleeping appeared on his face. His tan skin looked pale and lifeless, except for the purplish bruise splotches.

"L-Lovi!" I exclaimed. He didn't respond. I was starting to cry.

"Lovi, please wake up, please please please." In an attempt to rouse him, I shook his shoulders. This did nothing but make his head limply swing to the side.

What if he died?

No, he couldn't have died!

I left the house for a little while and he gets seriously injured. Oh god, I feel so guilty. How could I be so awful?

Horrid thoughts run through my head in the matter of moments. Someone murdered him, out of spite or irrationality. Or worse, he committed suicide because he was sick of me and my stupidity. If that's the case, then I'm the murderer.

Oh god, no.

"Lovi!" I sobbed. He didn't respond.

I felt my heart shatter. To think of him dead, so young and beautiful… It hurt to my core. My tears became more desperate, and started running in floods. Logic was failing me. I only knew hurt.

Unfocused, I lifted him from the ground and carried him inside. I rested his lifeless body on the couch. His favorite couch.

Wailing now, I kneeled by him and tried to think clearly. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. I should find someone who knows what to do. Who do I know who knows what to do? Oh, my Lovi…

I picked up my phone and dialed Francis' number, barely conscious of what I was doing.

"Antonio, I'm kind of busy. What-"

"_Mi Lovi, mi Lovi ha muerto! Qué debo hacer?_" I sobbed into the phone.

He listened quietly, and sighed. I don't think he understood me, but he understood my tone of voice. "Did you check his pulse or anything, or are you going off of an assumption?"

I wasn't assuming anything. My Lovi was dead! I stood up, angry at his reaction. "I know dead when I see it!"

"Check again."

Outraged, I turned away from Romano. "Just tell me what to do. Please!"

"I am telling you what to do."

I realized I couldn't bear to turn back to my lifeless love. It felt awful to see him so vulnerable, so broken, so…

So dead.

With renewed energy, I sobbed into the phone. "Francis, help me!"  
Before he could tell me something soothing, I heard another groan. It wasn't me; I was too busy crying to let out any sound other than miserable wails. It wasn't Francis; he was building some kind of comforting and constructive speech.

It was Lovi.

I snapped my phone closed and turned around again. He was rubbing his eyes and trying to sit up. He grimaced and fell back down. Again, he let out a groan.

"W-what just happened?" Lovi attempted to sit up again, this time successfully. He swung his legs out and put them on the floor.

The empty whole immediately filled again, and I let out a sigh of relief. He was alive, thank god. It was all just a mistake! He didn't kill himself! I was still crying, but now out of sheer joy.

With the burst of sudden elation, I plopped onto the couch next to him and hugged him. I took his shoulders and looked at him eagerly. "You aren't dead!"

Before he could respond, I pressed my lips to his. It was a desperate, wanting kiss. I couldn't let him die before getting at least one, single kiss.

Lovi stiffened, surprised. But soon he fell into the kiss too. And damn, is he a good kisser! He moved his hands up to my hair and mine went to his waist. I started to lean forward, instinctively wanting more, and we ended up toppling. I fell onto him, but instead of taking this as a signal to go farther, I pulled away and looked at him carefully. I know never to take advantage of a near-death experience.

This is when he'll realize what's happening and react.

Either he's going to revert to normal with, "_What the hell are you doing, bastard? Get off of me! Sick pervert!_"

Or he'll realize what he's been missing all this time and tell me, "_I've never realized how much I want you! Make love to me, you dazzling Spanish man!"_

Or, god forbid, he'll headbutt me in the stomach.

I really didn't think he'd react much differently than those three options.

Lovi blinked at me, and laughed awkwardly. He was blushing heavily. I expectantly awaited him to speak. "Um," he looked at me seriously. Then he said the one thing I wasn't prepared to hear.

"Who are you?"

* * *

Translations

_Mi Lovi, mi Lovi ha muerto! Qué debo hacer?_ - My Lovi, my Lovi has died! What do I do?


	3. Aphrodite's Interlude

**Again, you guys are amazing with the response! ****Here's a little interlude to sustain drama. **It's late, I'm tired, and I have school tomorrow-but I posted it FOR YOU! Reviews are savored, and people who give me ideas get Prussia's Seal of Awesomeness. Yeah, I have connections.

APHRODITE POV

I rested my head on Greece's stomach, reading the most recent copy of _Seventeen._ He was napping, again, but I could feel his tense energy. We both knew what we were waiting for. Neither of us was happy about it, we didn't want it to happen, but at least we were prepared. In fact, our casual slouching was all a façade, one believable even to Little Miss Smart-Ass. She's such a bitch.

I know why Heracles was up for it. He agreed with me on her bitchiness. Unlike Athena, I never nagged him about his napping. Hell, he's been letting us live with him since his mom died. Why would I try to correct him on his lifestyle? Besides, I like laying around and doing nothing too. We actually agreed on a lot of things. It was an advantage I had on our bet, since he was our moderator.

Yes, I had him alter the rules we've set. Athena should know I change the rules so I appear to be the winner. It's my thing.

"She's coming," Greece mumbled under his breath. I nodded, though I don't know if he could tell. He's not the type of person who would care.

Athena looked furious, her auburn hair mussed and dress crumpled. She planted her hands on her hips and glared at me. I casually looked up from the magazine.

"What's hip, potato chip?" I say, smirking.

Her glare was venomous. "You know what's 'hip', Aphrodite."

"Yeah, I'm up on the trends." I look back to the magazine, not caring enough to focus long on her bitchy stare. I felt Heracles' stomach tighten under my head. This was a sign that he didn't want to be here. Me neither.

"You went to talk to Romano. That's against the rules! And it should be against your moral code, if you even have one."

"Shouldn't betting on your children be considered against your moral code?" Greece casually pointed out. Yeah, he's on my side.

She turned her glare on him. "We're checking the rules. Now."

"Already did." He pushed me off so he could sit up. I sat cross-legged next to him. He pulled the piece of paper from his pocket and straightened it and placed it on the ground. I leaned over to look at it, and Athena sat down and did the same.

He pointed at the fifth bullet point, where it said, _No trying to advance your child by intervening._

"See?" She grinned triumphantly.

Greece shook his head slowly. "We looked up the definitions."

"Advancing is to make progress," I explain. "I did nothing that had Romano make progress. In fact, he doesn't even remember my visit." _Or anything, really, _I added mentally. But she doesn't seem to know about this yet.

Heracles joined in, savoring the fact that we're telling Athena, goddess of wisdom, what words mean. We're smarter, and I hope we can always remind her of this moment. "Intervening means to prevent fate. She went in knowing that she was going to prevent nothing."

"You pushed him off of a cliff."

I frowned. "Yes, but—"

"A _cliff!_"

"It still didn't do anything." Lies. "I was just pissed at the idiot." Truth.

Sometimes I wonder if he is actually my child. The more I watch him, the more I can't believe it. He's got my looks, for sure. I doubt there's ever been a more attractive young man. But he rejects love and affection like a professional. Like Artemis, or something. Romano seems to be afraid of physical contact. Afraid, dammit! I don't know where I went wrong.

Of course, Athena must feel the same about Feliciano. Perhaps even more so. After all, she's the goddess of wisdom. Feliciano is probably the dumbest person I've ever seen. Plus, he's weak. Really, really weak. Like, picking up a rock is exhausting. It was pitiful.

I sympathize, but I don't care enough about her feelings to do anything about it. Besides, I have to win against the bitch.

"Well, it still counts as intervening! And you did advance him by talking to him!" I can tell she's losing steam fast. This was the point when we deny, deny, deny. She'll give up.

"No, it doesn't. Weren't you listening?" Greece said impatiently. He stretched and yawned, then fell back down to attempt sleep.

She was glaring at me again. "Face it, you're disqualified."

I leaned back against Heracles' stomach. "No, I'm not. You should be disqualified, actually. You intervened with Feliciano, sending him that bastard." I sat up briefly, to exclaim, "Twice!"

She glared at us as I pulled back out my magazine. I didn't need any more evidence. We won.

"You guys are assholes." Athena left with that sentiment.

I listened as her steps faded into the distance, leaving us in a serene silence. We sat like that, me casually flipping pages and Greece snoring lazily, for a good few minutes.

Then he murmured, "I didn't actually think it'd work."

"Me neither."

"She's such a bitch..." he said sleepily, and returned to snoring.

I put my magazine on my stomach and stared at the sky. It was a pale blue, slowly turning darker with the oncoming sunset.

I wonder what my son is doing right now.


	4. Upon Awakening

**Thanks for the great feedback! I'm sorry this took so long to post, my parents took away my computer for a day. It was unbearable. But now my best friend is determined to make me finish this story, so don't expect me to just stop out of the blue. I'm pretty sure if I do, she would go all Belarus on me. That would be terrifying. Anyways, comments appreciated, and don't forget to be awesome, you guys!**

ROMANO POV

This place seems nice. Here I am, on a nice couch, with a cute guy, and plenty of sunshine is beaming through the many windows. Okay, so the cute guy is staring at me funny, the sunshine is right in my eyes, and I'm kind of stuck under the previously mentioned cute guy on the couch. So it's kind of a bad situation. I liked the whole kissing business better than this.

Even if I have no clue what's going on.

"N-not that you have to stop!" I tell him quickly, to fill the silence. It did the exact opposite of what I was hoping for. I only made him feel more awkward.

I personally loved the kiss. It was panicked, yes, but still so sweet. He tasted so familiar. Screw the fact that I didn't know who he was. It was probably one of the best introductions I've ever experienced.

He was so handsome, though. His emerald eyes, and sun-kissed skin… I think that's a better term for it than tan, and so much more appropriate. The sun would want to kiss a man like him.

_(Goddamn bastard—why aren't you punching him in the gut?)_

That was an awfully random thought. Besides, what has he done to make me want to punch him? Other than that stupidly shocked expression on his face, I can't see anything wrong with him.

"You don't recognize me."

"Should I?" I blink at him.

He finally realized that our position wasn't… optimal. The man sat up, his eyes wide and confused. "You… really don't remember me."

I shake my head, and sit up myself. He turned and stared at me seriously, though I still saw light humor in his eyes.

"You don't remember me? Boss Spain?"

It's hard to refrain from bursting into laughter as I casually say, "So this is a normal work day?"

He didn't find it humorous. "You hit your head. I think you should sleep, or something." His eyebrows furrowed. "I'm calling a doctor."

"But I'm okay."

That, of course, was the moment that the pain hit.

It wasn't just a mild hurt, like hitting your head on a shelf or bumping into a wall. This was blinding, searing agony. My whole head felt like it would explode. The pain came down on me in crashing waves, drowning me in suffering. It took all my effort to contain my cries, but that determination was quickly worn down. I screamed.

The man looked at me, startled, and grabbed his phone without another word. The world was starting to go all shiny and bright with pain, and I didn't like it.

He was mumbling to himself as he dialed the number, and I only caught the term 'estúpido' being repeated, and something about not calling France again.

I bit my lip to restrain from screaming again. He paused to look at me, endless worry passing through his face. I closed my eyes to avoid seeing him so distraught. I could feel his returned focus to the phone. I turned back to look at him, feeling the world continue to turn brighter and fuzzier. My vision doubled, then trebled. I felt woozy.

"Merda questo fa male! Fallo smettere…" I was in tears with pain.

"Doctor, I-" He paused, listening. Then a casual smile grew on his face. "Yeah, everything's good."

He looked back at me, and his stupid smile evaporated. He said quickly into the phone, "Wait, no, everything isn't good…"

And that's when I blacked out.

* * *

When I woke up, I was in a clean white room. No, clean isn't the right term. It's more… sterile. Yeah, it's all very sterile. It's not warm and clean, like the room I was in before, but very sterilized. It's so overwhelmingly bright, that the moment I open my eyes I nearly vomit.

Three men were gathered at the other end, and I could distinctly hear their conversation. After all, the room was only a few square feet. It wasn't like they were really being secretive.

Two of them were doctors, I could tell by their white coats. One of them, I noted, had a clipboard and was furiously scribbling. The other was the guy who was making out with me before. Yeah, cause _that _doesn't sound weird.

It's funny, the two medical guys kind of fit in here. With their white coats, and pasty skin from being inside all the time, it was as if they would soon fade into the background in this hospital. The guy who referred to himself as Boss Spain, though I highly doubt that's his actual name because anyone who named their child Boss would be an idiot, didn't fit in with all the monotonous colors. His clothing was vibrant, along with his skin, and his face was full of animation. Plus, his eyes were probably the most wonderful I've ever seen. Bright, expressive… calling them simply green was a lie. They were more than that. Beautifully indescribable.

"…so you're saying he didn't recognize you?"

The man sniffled. "Not even one bit."

"And how long have you known him?"

He shrugged, and looked off in the distance with a fond expression, like remembering a sweet moment. "I've known him forever. Since he was a toddler, I'd say. Though it feels longer."

Really? I've known this guy all my life? Who the hell is he?

The man with the clipboard went mad when he heard this, and scribbled with a furious energy. The other doctor just nodded to Mister Boss.

"Hi." I say mildly.

They all break from their places, quickly moving to my side. Mister Boss took my hand, and looked at me with more sincerity than I imagined possible. The doctors huddled, glancing over their notes.

The one without the clipboard studied me. "What's your name?"

"Don't you have that written on your stupid papers?" Stupid question.

Mister Boss quietly told me, "Lovi, answer the question." Then he hit himself on the head. "I shouldn't have said that! Don't listen to me! Don't cheat!"

"You really ought to remain calm, Antonio."

Antonio. I'd believe that. Mister Boss looks like an Antonio. Isn't that one of the names that sounds sappy and romantic. And honestly, he's making me feel sappy and romantic. So sue me.

"Sorry, I know." He nodded somberly.

"So, your full name?"

I look at him like he's an idiot. "Romano Lovino Vargas." Stupid bastard.

"Good. And do you have any siblings?"

"A brother. Feliciano." I say. Shit, what's Feli doing right now? Does he know I'm here?

"And the day today?"

My mind came up blank. I couldn't stop thinking of Feli, and if he was worried that I'm not home.

"I don't know." I answer honestly. The bastard is making me seem like some dumbass that doesn't have a calendar.

The man started to scribble again. His coworker asked, "What about the year?"

"Uh…" I bite my lip and look at my hands thoughtfully. Again, like an idiot without a calendar, I answered, "I don't know."  
"Oh, Lovi," Antonio said softly. I couldn't look at him or the doctors. I feel so stupid. I can tell I'm starting to blush.

"Do you know how this happened?"

I look away and blush darker. "All I remember is waking up and hurting like hell. So stop pestering me, dammit!"

"Alright. Doctor Ashworth and I shall leave you now. We have enough information." The man looked to his coworker, who nodded, and the two started to leave. At the last moment, he turned to face me. "You'll have to take a few tests soon, and I'll send a nurse for that."

I nod, feeling more than glad they're leaving. Antonio took my hand again, and stared at it thoughtfully.

"So you still don't remember me."

I don't know why he's taking this as a personal offense. "I don't even know the year, dumbass."

Why am I being so defensive? Why am I cursing? He hasn't done anything wrong. He's so nice, too.

_(He's not nice. He's a bastard! What the hell is wrong with you? You act as if you're in love with the tomato bastard!.)_

Mmm, that's what he smells like. Tomatoes. It's soft and subtle, but now that I realized it, it has become blatant. Mmm, now I'm hungry.

"I'm sorry for… kissing you," Antonio said this quietly, while looking away from me.

I shook my head. "D-don't be." If he's sorry, that means he wishes it didn't happen. So he doesn't want to kiss me.

"I'm kind of an idiot sometimes."

_(No kidding, bastard.)_

"No, no. I… No." I didn't know what the hell I was saying, but it felt good to reject something. "No, dammit!"

"It was a bad idea," he mumbled. "I was just so afraid about you dying, and thinking that I would never get that opportunity again."

I didn't know how to respond. So I changed the subject, feeling my cheeks heat. "I don't like this room."

He seemed relieved. "No, I really don't like hospitals. Even though there are usually interesting stories around them."

"Really? How does anything interesting happen here? Other than, like, death."

Antonio grinned. "Well, I know most of the doctors and nurses here by name due to clumsy accidents. You'd always try to boss them around, which was cute." He looked at me, almost bursting into laughter. "In fact, I think I fell off of your roof once, and they gave you the job of waking me up every three hours. You would usually jump onto my stomach, or pour ice water down my pants."

I blush and giggle.

_(Giggle? Like some schoolgirl? What the fuck is wrong with you? You seriously did hit your head!)_

That voice is too loud. I wish it were quieter. I don't know why that voice in my head is so opposed to this… whatever the hell this is. I'm just glad this person is so safe feeling. Sure, I don't know him, but I do feel as though I've been around him forever. It would explain my casual attraction to him.

Shit—Not attraction! That sounds too sexual. Ah, no, not sexual! That's perverted, even thinking of the term. Sexual. Mio dio, internal awkwardness go away! I'm not attracted to this guy, I'm not being sexual, so shut the hell up. I meant attraction as—you know, I'm not even gonna try.

I think he could tell my sudden swing in emotion. He looked up and asked, "Are you okay? You look… sick."

"I'm in a fucking hospital." I say, before I can think about it. Then I put my hands over my mouth, letting out a little squeak.

He looks at me, startled. I quickly add, "I'm sorry, that was mean."

"No, that's actually the most normal thing you've said today." He smiles, and his whole face lights up with it.

I'm not usually mean, am I? And why does he seem pleased with it? Fucking masochist bastard. Shit, I keep doing that!

"Ugh, my head hurts."

"Right!" He nods eagerly. "I'll leave you to get some sleep."

Good, maybe that will reduce the confusion. That would certainly help. But as he turned to leave, I realized that I had to have my biggest question answered.

"Wait." I said. He paused and looked at me, his hand still on the door handle. I look away, feeling my face nearly melt off. "How are we… in relation to each other?"

He grinned, relaxed. Then he frowned thoughtfully. Then a flash of absolute concern flashed on his face. Then it was back to the thoughtful frown. He's so damn expressive… I wonder what he's thinking about…

"Uh, how about we talk about this later?" Before I could respond, he shot out of the room.

Why doesn't he want to answer my question?

* * *

_Merda questo fa male! Fallo smettere…_-Shit this hurts! Make it stop...


	5. Manipulation

**Wow this took forever to write! It's hard to gather the awesome essence of Prussia. I was going to post it yesterday, but then weird stuff went down. Oh well, it's up today. Sorry for taking so long, the next chapter will definitely be up tomorrow/Tuesday! (Depending on if we have snow-day...) Comments make me happy, and happy me writes faster!**

PRUSSIA POV

I know I'm about to be killed. To be honest, I've been through this before. That almost murder. But the momentary victory, the high before the crash… oh, I live for that. It's a dangerous hobby, getting people pissed off, but it's one of the biggest adrenaline rushes I know of. And Francis is the best for that, because he's less likely to kill me. I've tried with Hungary, and I ended up in the emergency room. West's too busy with his stupid boyfriend to fall for my traps. And Antonio is an idiot. Francis is fits the criterion perfectly. He's relatively gullible, always bored, and weak enough for me to take on.

I sat by the fire, casually poking wine bottles and listening to them burst. I smile blandly at the flames, but eagerly anticipate Francis' arrival.

I didn't put my name on the letter, but I didn't have to. Predictability has advantages. If someone else doodled birds on it and used terms like awesome and cool more than anything else, they'd believe I did it.

Oh, maybe I should have mimicked someone else to keep the target off of my back.

But really, why hide the awesome?

I poked the fire again. What could be keeping him so long? It's not like he'd miss the note, would he? Even if he did, I would bet you he'd hunt me down anyway. He's probably just trying to find me. Is it really that hard to follow the smoke and fire in my backyard?

Did I go too far?

Ha, nonsense. I'm too cool to do that. He's probably just taking his time.

I heard a dramatic gasp, and turned to see a horrified Francis. "You sick bastard!" The color had faded from his face, and the look was one similar to how I imagine people would look while watching a baby die. Then he turned to look at me, death in his eyes. It was a vicious thrill to feel my stomach plummet.

"I was cold. I lit a fire." I say mildly. It's hard to contain my laughter.

He glared at me, shooting rays violent fury into my soul. I smile proudly back. It was truly genius. It's one of my best plans yet. And damn, it's working perfectly.

Francis stormed over to me and grabbed me by the hair. I had a moment to be confused before he yanked it upward. I was immediately dragged up from my squatting position. I cried out, which seemed to give him sick pleasure. He smirked coldly.

"That's not very nice! Lemme go!" I scream.

"I'm going to fucking kill you." The way he said this, I couldn't do anything but believe him.

You know those stories? You know, when a guy has to get out of a sticky situation, and does so by manipulating the hell out of their opponents? This is a time when I can understand why they do it. So, I improvise.

"Wait! You don't want to do that!"

His eyes showed the cold, dead-set fury. "Why the hell not?"

"B-because we'll keep up this cycle." He looked puzzled, which gave me leverage. But he was still holding my hair uncomfortably, and I moved to my tip-toes. I quickly added, "So if you hurt me, I'll only hurt you back! Even worse than this!"

"Not likely. This is the end. No longer am I going to be pestered by a man who lives in his brother's basement."

Ouch, that's cold. I'm not living in West's basement! It's my territory! He knows he hit a sore spot, because he grinned even wider. Meanie.

What else did those stories tell me? Oh, compliments are best for manipulating! "B-but listen! You can't kill me." Change the subject; maybe he'll go with it. Compliments, Gilbert! Compliments will win him over the best. He loves compliments more than anything. "We're equal in strength! Plus, we both have some of the best minds for bringing hell onto unsuspecting people. That's why we're friends in the first place, right?"

"I suppose…" His eyes showed watchful belief. I hoped that the fire behind me wouldn't explode again. If it did, I'd lose my case. And then it's the end of the great Prussia.

"So, we need to use these powers together. We could cause some serious damage working together."

He let go of my hair, to my relief. "We would."

"In fact, we could pick some easily manipulated person and take advantage of them. We'd be so awesome!" I grin at the prospects. It sounded like it would actually be a fun way to kill time. Francis clearly thinks so, too.

"Who could we screw with, though?" He says thoughtfully.

Spain. He'd never see it coming. "Well, who's someone who is remarkably gullible, but already trusts us with his life?"

"Antonio?" Mistrust returned in his eyes.

I smile evilly. "Exactly. He wouldn't get hurt in the process; that would be mean. We're just going to ruin his life a little bit."

"I don't think I should…"

"Of course you should. It'll be fun!"

"But he's so… innocent. We can't hurt him." His eyes showed incredible empathy.

"We're not hurting him, we're just having fun!"

Before he can respond, his cell phone rings. He picks it up, looks at the caller id, and turns to me.

"It's him!"

"Well, pick it up." I tell him. "Put it on speakerphone so I can hear." Quietly, I pull a piece of paper out of my pocket and point to it. "I'll be giving you notes on what to say."

He nods quickly and clicks the speakerphone button. "Allo?"

"Francis…" Antonio says this miserably, extending each syllable. I suppose this hasn't been his day.

"What's wrong, mon ami?"

He takes a deep breath and says one of the longest and quickest sentences I've heard. Ever. "Lovi's alive but he doesn't remember anything and I kissed him even though I shouldn't have and he's confused and I'm doing nothing for it—he asked me how I was with him, well not with him exactly but how he should describe me, whether we're friends or if I'm his boss but I kissed him!" He took another deep breath and said another ridiculously long run-on sentence. "My problem is that I could tell him how I was his boss but I'm not anymore or I could say I'm his friend but I kissed him and I shouldn't lie and tell him that we're dating because he'll remember and be angry at me!"

I stared at Francis, confused to no end. But he already was thinking.

"No, you really should tell him you two are in a romantic relationship. After all, we've all been waiting for the day he flips from the sexual tension and rips your clothes off and... goes wild." I didn't like the creeper grin on Francis' face.

I heard the surprised squeak he let out before saying, "He doesn't feel that way!" Poor Antonio, I'm pretty sure he did not want to hear that. But considering how much more explicit that could have been, I know Francis was trying to be polite.

I roll my eyes and write on the paper, _Why are you helping him?_

He quickly scribbled back, _Because it will give him more trouble in the end. Plus, we can manipulate their relationship while Romano's still not remembering things._

Tricky, tricky, my friend.

"Are you still there?"

Francis takes the phone again. "Oui."

"So… he really likes me?"

"Of course he does. Romano is just the type of person who doesn't show stuff like that. He keeps his feelings to himself." He's good at this kind of manipulation. I mean, I almost believe him myself!

Antonio took a deep, shuddering breath. "This isn't fair. It sounds bad, but I like this new Lovi. He's… different now. He's not always angry and cursing. It's strange, in an adorable way. But I don't want to take advantage of that."

"You've got to stop saying it that way. Then you probably won't feel so guilty. All you're doing is advancing the romance that's already been acknowledged."

"But I don't know when—if he ever—starts to remember things again. He would be really mad if I manipulated him like that."

"You're not manipulating him." Francis looked at me, smirking. I know what he's thinking. _You may be manipulating him, but we're manipulating you. It all works out in the end._

Woah. I'm so awesome, I'm at the top of this manipulation chain. I'm manipulating Francis, who's manipulating Antonio to manipulate Romano. That's just so damn cool. And to think, I can still hear the wine bottles bursting in the bonfire.

"Well, if you say so…" Antonio sounded disbelieving, but it was obvious that he really wanted to believe him.

"Promise you'll say that you're his boyfriend the next time he asks."

"I… suppose I will."

Francis smiles. "Well, you do that. And tell me how he reacts."

"Okay." He sounded relieved. "Thank you for helping me. You truly are a good friend."

Antonio hung up, and Francis looked horrified.

"He called me a good friend."

Oh, he's starting to think about the morality of this situation. Where is that when he's groping everyone at meetings and stuff? I really don't get Francis.

I pat him on the back. "You're a great friend, because you're bringing him back to reality. It takes a true friend to do that."

With the dramatic, cheesy way that he's mastered, he swooped his gaze over to me. He caught my eyes and studied them. "You think so?"

"Uh, yeah."

Jeez, my friends are weird.

* * *

Allo? - Hello?

Mon ami - My friend


	6. Visiting Hours

**Hey everyone! I've been trying to fix this up for a while. Writing for Feliciano is kind of a daunting task... Anyway, here it is! Comments are appreciated!**

FELICIANO'S POV

Ludwig looked at me uncomfortably. "Do I really have to be here?" He asked.

"Veh~" I didn't want to face my brother by myself. Which sounded bad. So I only responded with my typical answer. He accepted it willingly.

"You know Romano doesn't like me."

I smile at him. "He needs support, Ludwig. Big brother Spain told me to come here. And the more, the merrier, right?"

He shrugged. "I suppose. But shouldn't this be just family?"

"You count as family." I say simply. After all, I love him and Romano might be okay with that now that he's been concussed.

Ludwig gave me a soft, gentle smile and said nothing. It's my favorite smile, because it's so honest and handsome. My handsome and honest Ludwig… I'm so lucky! It makes me happy just to be with him. That's why it always bothers me that Romano loathes him so much. It hurts to see the two people I love the most so opposed to each other.

At least Ludwig tries his best to be nice to him, but Romano loses it too easily. He's always so angry. That's why I'm so worried about seeing him today. He might be angry at me. I don't know why he'd be angry, since I did nothing wrong, but… I don't know. He loves me, I know that, but he expresses it in a weird way.

And honestly, Romano's kind of oblivious.

Don't misunderstand me! I love my fratello more than anything, and I really want to see him. Spain sounded so upset on the phone. He's so nice, taking care of Roma. I was starting to worry about him when he didn't come home last night. He didn't even call. Any time he stays at big brother Spain's house, he calls me. I insisted that Ludwig stayed with me, since I was so scared. Of course, if Romano knew that he slept over, he'd jump to ridiculous conclusions. And he doesn't even know that we're dating.

The nurse walked over to us and smiled. "Okay, Romano is finished with his tests. You can visit him now."

"Grazie." I say, smiling back. With an exuberant flounce, I stood up and took Ludwig's hand. I bounded towards Romano's room, boyfriend in tow.

He was on the bed, rubbing his temples. To my horror, he had bandages all over his head. When he looked up and saw me. He smiled. Then he focused on Ludwig. He frowned.

Oh, I should have expected this.

"Feli, who is this guy? What the hell is he doing here?" He looked at Ludwig mistrustfully.

I turned to Ludwig, saying, "Vehh?"

He quickly said, "Hello, Romano, I'm Ludwig."

"Stupid-ass name." Roma mumbled, squirming in his hospital bed. Then he looked at us expectantly. "Well? Do you have any reason to be here?"

I beam. "Of course we do."

"I'm talking to your bodyguard—or whatever he is."

_Boyfriend_, I tell him mentally. But he didn't catch my telepathic message. He just glared.

"Um, I'm here with Feliciano. To support you."

Romano glared harder. "And how do I know you?"

An inner voice panicked. _He's forgotten everything! Everything!_

Before Ludwig can say anything, I intertwined my hand with his. He looks at me, a _what-the-hell-are-you-doing _expression on his face. I shrug. Of all the times to tell Romano about our relationship, I think this will be the best. He's less likely to blow up. At least, he won't blow up yet.

"He's my boyfriend." I explain. I love saying that out loud. It's true, and declaring love is one of the best feelings ever.

Romano stared at us again, his mouth gaping open. Then he closed it. Then he opened it again, as if to say something. Then he closed it, yet again. He was acting like a fish. I had to contain my giggles at the thought of my brother as a fish. First, I need to stop saying fish, because it's impossible not to laugh at a funny word like that. Almost as if on cue, Ludwig squeezed my hand to make me focus. I remember, and manage to contain my giggling.

"You're dating my brother." The words were said coldly, but his eyes still showed confusion. He was trying to intimidate Ludwig. Good luck with that, fratello.

"Yes I am."

I smile at Romano, "And we're happy!"

His entire face softens at this. It was the winning argument. I'm good with words sometimes!

"I don't want him here." He pouts, although I think it was meant to be a scowl. Either way, I understand.

I give Ludwig an apologetic glance, and he shrugs back. He says, "It's nice to see you, Romano," and rushes out of the room. I probably did him a favor.

The silence, though, was deafening. Romano looked angry, confused, and desperately miserable. I needed to be a good little brother and help him.

So, I casually walk up to his bed. He pulled his knees close to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, a little ball of despair. I felt embarrassed to see him acting weak. He's never weak. Unlike me, he's strong.

"I'm sorry you don't remember things." I say simply, unsure of if it would work. He focused on the space in front of him. His eyes are tearing up. I look down, blushing. I'm pretty sure he's blushing even more.

"Everything's so confusing. I need a fucking nap." I returned my gaze, and he was wiping away tears angrily.

I nod, glad to have the distraction. "I guess it's been hard. You hit your head, right?"

"Yeah. And it really hurt." He pouted again.

I look at him sympathetically. "I was so worried about you! When you didn't come home or call me, I started to panic. Then big brother Spain called, and I—"

"He's our brother?" Romano stopped crying, and his face went a sickly white. I looked at him funny.

"Yeah, he's big brother Spain. Didn't I say that?"

"But I…" He gulped. "So he's not…"

He suddenly appeared weary, and reiterated, "I need a fucking nap."

"I can tell." I smile jokingly at this, but he's too deep in thought to notice.

"How much longer do I have to say here?"

What? He sounds like I'm supposed to know. "As soon as you're better."

"Ugh, I don't feel so good."

In a moment of compulsiveness, I do what we always do when one of us says we feel sick. It's nostalgic, and sweet. It always brings a smile onto his face. I put my forehead against his and compare temperatures.

"You don't feel sick." I say mildly, grinning.

He frowns and moves back. "What the hell are you doing?"

It was one of the worst things he could say. I stepped back, astounded. I only wanted to make him happy. Romano always smiles, always. But now he's angry with me. What did I do?

"I'm checking your temperature." I say, disheartened.

He crosses his arms. "Why can't you act mature?"

"W-we always do it this way, fratello!" I felt myself starting to cry.

This seemed to strike him. He paused, looked at me, and almost said an apology. I could tell it was right on his tongue. But he second-guessed himself. "I need a fucking nap."

I bite my lip so I don't start sobbing, and stumble out of the room. I'm undeniably hurt. Something must be distracting Roma, or something. Yes, that must be it. I didn't do anything wrong.

With this in my head, I start to blindly run to Ludwig. He surely couldn't be far.

Someone crashed into me. I exclaimed, "Oof!" and skidded out of the way, landing on my butt. He continued to rush in the opposite direction. Then, he turned back to apologize to me. It was big brother Spain.

"Feli, what are you doing? Are you here to see Lovi?" Spain bent over, panting. I smile at him hopelessly.

"Veh~ I…" I didn't think he'd take it well if I said I was going back to Ludwig. I wiped the tears from my face.

He extended his hand to help me up. I took it obligingly and stood up. "I'm sorry about knocking you over. I just really wanted to see Lovi."

I nod. "It's okay. I think I may go home now, actually. I'm really tired."

"But… you just got here." He blinked at me.

"Actually, I…" I stammer awkwardly, not sure how to finish my sentence without raising questions. He got distracted soon.

Spain's face lit up with excitement. "Come on, we can see him together!"

"But, big brother, I don't think I should. It's just… I already went to see him."

He took my arm and pulled me along. "Well, it's impossible to get enough of Lovi."

"Actually, I really should go…" I move away from him and explain, "Ludwig is teaching me how to tie my shoes today."

Okay, he taught me that last week. But I don't think Romano wants to see me again. And he seemed tired. Maybe things will be better when he's gotten out of the hospital, though...?

"Oh, that's probably important. I don't want to keep you from that." He grins. "Just make sure to visit him a lot, okay?"

I nod, and turn to leave. At least I know my fratello is in good hands with big brother Spain looking out for him.


End file.
